


better late than never

by tenbfireflies



Series: Sunny & Charlie [7]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Modern Era, PWP, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-14 18:02:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18953167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenbfireflies/pseuds/tenbfireflies
Summary: "Say please," Sunny croaks, composure chipping away."I'm not sure you have time for this." Sunny bites his earlobe as he presses his dick right against him."Chuck," he sings."Fuck you." Sunny, the smartass, chooses that moment to shove in all the way.





	better late than never

**Author's Note:**

> yoooo, guess who's back? everyone's favorite pair of crackheads. so, I'm working on ch 4 of catch my drift, but I needed something else to write and I haven't written smut in awhile. I don't have a beta reader so if there are any mistakes, my bad lol. comments and kudos are always appreciated! hope you enjoy!

Any kind of late night sex is good sex in Charlie's opinion.

The slow, passionate kind; sexual tension building throughout the night until, finally, it bubbles over and erupts like a geyser.

Clumsy, tired sex; when a nightmare shocks one of them awake and the other helps them forget, holds them until the shakes go away, distracts them from the gunshots in their head.

All special in their own ways.

But, if Charlie had to choose a favorite, the one that leaves him breathless, never quite satisfied, it'd be the nights Sunny comes home on his break.

Wired and sweaty, itching to touch, to be touched. They always had to be quick, can't waste too much time on prep. A hectic rush to get off, using each other to get what they want, what they need.

Charlie loves that, being used by Sunny.

The best part though is that it's always a surprise.

Sunny's break falls between 12am-1am whenever he works doubles, a time Charlie is normally out in the city, wreaking havoc, running errands for less than reputable folk. Drug deliveries, shake-ups, anything that was nefarious and paid, Charlie did it. Traveling through the different boroughs, making ends meet the only way he knew how. On a good night, he didn't get home until three in the morning.

If Sunny did have a break in his schedule he'd eat at the bar or get fast food, but sometimes, on rare occasions, he'd go back to the apartment, usually after taking something to keep him on edge and aware. Get his blood pumping, leaves his hands aching to touch.

And, once every blue moon, Charlie's in the apartment when Sunny takes his break. The first time it happened, they kinda biffed it.

Charlie was watching some cooking show, slowly taking hits out of his bowl, eyes stinging.

City chatter sneaks in through the cracked open window, the breeze mixes with his drying hair and it gives him goosebumps, but he keeps it up. Comforted by the sounds of the city; the constant symphony of police sirens, honking taxis, shouts from below- a free white noise machine.

A chef with short red hair drops her pancake batter. The lock clicks and the door creaks open as he's laughing.

Sunny shambles in, scratching behind his ear, a telltale sign he's on something.

The glow of the tv lights up the apartment and part of Sunny's face. Charlie turns on the couch, craning his neck to see the door.

A smile cuts into his cheeks upon seeing Sunny, an automatic response. Sunny wasn't supposed to be home, not yet anyway. Charlie would've waited for him, but now doesn't have to.

Sunny's back.

Sunny smiles at his boots as he unties them and pulls them off. He tosses them unceremoniously by the door.

"Hey," he says, too loud. Clears his throat and closes the door to give his hands something to do.

Charlie eyes him up and down, moving up to lean over the back of the couch.

"Hey, sunshine. I thought you had work." Sunny meanders to where Charlie is, half of his body extended out, always trying to get closer.

Sunny's pupils are blown out, his brown eyes look black, and the scar on his eyebrow twitches.

"I'm on my break." Hair gets in his eyes when he looks down at him. it's getting long again, hanging low at the back of his neck, bangs grown out and pushed to the side. Sunny wants to grow it out but he's too impatient to deal with while it's growing. "I came back to get some food."

A million dirty jokes race through his mind, feels the smirk coming from a mile away, can't help it when his lips curve.

He invades Sunny's space, his nose colliding with a scratchy jaw. Alcohol and smoke. Sweat too. And a small hint of that new soap they use. The one he complained about when Charlie showed it to him. Said he didn't want to smell like a bouquet of flowers. Yet here they are.

He nips at a piece of skin, smiles against his throat.

"I got something you can eat." Sunny shakes his head, but crowds closer, shifting his head to expose more neck. Charlie licks up with the tip of his tongue, delights in the way Sunny squirms under him.

"Yeah?" Charlie nibbles his earlobe, tugs just slightly. Knows all the strings to pull to get Sunny shaking in his arms.

"When you gotta be back?" Kisses down his neck once more, nipping at his rapid pulse. A hand wraps itself in blonde hair, tugging at the roots.

"30 minutes, so whatever you're cooking better be quick." Ripping Charlie's head back, Sunny attacks his neck with tongue, teeth, and lips; revenge.

A laugh bubbles from Charlie's throat and Sunny grins against his skin. Pauses at the spot on his throat. The spot Sunny knows well after years of necking. The spot that makes his breath stutter if it's bitten just right.

"Quality food takes time." Charlie punctuates the remark with a whine. Sunny gnaws at the skin.

Claws Sunny's shirt, the skin underneath molds under his hands. He wants to feel it. Wants to grip the skin so tight it leaves bruises. Wants to see his fingerprints etched into Sunny's skin. Needs to.

Abruptly, Sunny steps back, staring at Charlie's lips. His shallow breathing speeds up, hand clenching and unclenching at his side. Charlie wants to push forward, kiss him, poke at his lips until he opens up, leave his boy breathless.

But they to be quick.

Charlie sits back on his heels, pulling his shirt off as Sunny rounds the couch, discarding his own.

Sunny falls onto Charlie and aims for lips. Sparks every time.

They could kiss a million times, hell they probably have at this point, and he'll still get the same swoop in his belly, out of body experience he had the first time. His boy with soft lips, soft like silk, usually closed tight, now fall open easily.

Sunny pushes into the kiss, moving them both without realizing, not until Charlie's back hits the armrest.

Kisses his way down, kisses the sun tattoo, bites his nipple and doesn't let go until Charlie squirms.

"Bitch," Charlie breathes.

Nips Charlie's taut, mostly hairless stomach. He'd never grown much hair on his chest, much to his own embarrassment. Once when they were high and stupid, he told him that he wished he had more, like Sunny.

Sunny spends a few extra seconds kissing there, nipping at it, before moving on. He pulls down Charlie's sweatpants, cock springing to life, hard and already leaking.

Sunny stares into his eyes when he grabs him. Pumping once, then swallowing the head. Charlie melts into the leather, moan traveling up his throat.

He reaches down and grabs a chunk of hair. Pulls him off when it's too much, pushing him down when he needs more, fucking his mouth. Sunny lets himself be used. Eyes on Charlie the entire time, choking whenever the tip pokes the back of his throat.

Sunny swallows and Charlie trembles.

Tears shine in his eyes when he pulls off, spit dribbling down his chin. Puffy lips, hair everywhere. He looks fucked.

He climbs onto Charlie's lap, who sits up, wanting to taste himself on Sunny's lips.

A belt buckle jingles, the cold metal bumps against Charlie's heated skin. His zipper slides down and he watches as Sunny pulls himself out, mouth watering at the uncut, seven inches he knew so well.

Charlie wraps a hand around the back, squeezing up.

Sunny finds his lips again. It's sloppier this time like Sunny's trying to re-learn the inside of his mouth. Tongue gliding along all the familiar grooves and edges.

His hips buck into Charlie's hand, breaks the kiss so he can gasp. Charlie nips his neck and uses both hands, one around the base, the other at the top, toying with his foreskin.

He can't tell if the tremor in Sunny's hand is from whatever drug he's on or the way Charlie is cranking his cock. Either way, Sunny tries to hide it by gripping his hair, craning Charlie's neck when he pinches the skin at the top.

Sunny's tether snaps and he backs away, dick slipping from Charlie's grasp.

"Turn around." Voice an octave deeper. Belt buckle clinks as pulls off his pants.

Charlie takes his time rolling over, wasting seconds trying to get comfortable.

Sunny's never been a patient man, so after a few seconds of watching Charlie scooch around, it's not surprising when his patience runs out and he shoves Charlie into the couch. Holding him still, pressing down on his spine and not letting up until he stops squirming.

Charlie scoffs around a smile and Sunny removes his hand, instead choosing to wrap both around Charlie's hips.

He bites one of his ass cheeks, smiling when Charlie jolts under his teeth.

"You showered, right?" Charlie rolls his eyes.

"No, I took a shit right before you showed up." Charlie looks over his shoulder to an unimpressed face. "Yes, Eugene, I showered."

Sunny pinches his side, doesn't hesitate to bury his tongue in his asshole. Charlie tells himself it's enthusiasm and not the ticking clock.

There's a familiarity to the way he licks him open; he knows exactly where his tongue needs to be, how much force to use and when to use it, to get the best reactions.

Charlie gasps. More tongue. He moans. Less tongue, then more all at once. Hips buck off the couch, foot kicking involuntarily. No tongue, not until he whines for forgiveness. Then, once Sunny hears it, accepts it the only way he can.

It's not 1920 anymore. Charlie doesn't need to be quiet, swallow his moans or temper his cries.

Sunny starts poking around. Charlie smiles around a moan.

"Finally," he sighs like he's been waiting in a slow-moving line. Jabbing at Sunny even as he fucks him open with his fingers. "You better speed this up if you wanna get back in time."

His tongue is gone in an instant, replaced with two long fingers. The burn is familiar, yet he clenches his jaw. Pain and pleasure go hand in hand.

"You know, I bet this would go quicker if you were doing it," Sunny says back, tone light. An argument they've had dozens of times; Sunny likes griping that he always does the work, while Charlie just gets to lay back and enjoy it.

It's never serious because Charlie's sure if he actually tried to prep himself, Sunny wouldn't let him. Has to be the one to do it. He's just an ass, who likes to push Charlie's easy to press buttons.

Whatever scalding comeback Charlie has in mind dissipates with a twist of Sunny's wrist. His fingers graze his prostate and dots line Charlie's vision, dick twitching against the cushion.

"Asshole," Charlie manages. He doesn't need to see Sunny's face to know he's smirking.

"That's no way to talk to someone who has their fingers up your ass." Charlie lifts his hips to get a better angle and Sunny uses it as an opportunity to stuff in a third finger. Charlie whines from the pain, but that only encourages Sunny to press harder.

Sweat beads down Charlie's temple, skin on fire.

Desperately, he tries to fuck back onto Sunny's fingers, eyes half open, mouth slightly agape. Cock pulsing for attention. He has yet to touch himself.

"Come on," he says, dragging out the word. The fingers press against his prostate once more, getting one last shiver, before they're gone.

Sunny spits into his hand, his own desperation shining through the cracks when he places a shaky hand on Charlie's waist.

Stretching his neck, Charlie peers over his shoulder to watch Sunny slide in and see the euphoria set over his face, his favorite part.

Their eyes find each other and Sunny dives forward without thinking, knocking their noses together, clinking their teeth around soft lips.

Rubs his dick over Charlie's asshole. He presses his lips to Charlie's ear.

"Say please," Sunny croaks, composure chipping away.

"I'm not sure you have time for this." Sunny bites his earlobe as he presses his dick right against him. Slowly forces his way in, muscles give around the tip, only to pull out. Fuckin' tease.

"Chuck," he sings.

"Fuck you." Sunny, the smartass, chooses that moment to shove in all the way. Charlie whimpers, laying his forehead against cool leather, belly heating up at the way his body takes Sunny's cock. He's convinced they were made for each other.

Soon Sunny finds his rhythm, eyes screwed shut, face serious as he starts to lose himself. He forgets his strength and in his desperate need to get off, he ends up pushing Charlie into the armrest.

As much as he hates to admit it, Sunny is stronger than him and never is that more clear than when they're fucking. He gets in his head, finds a good spot and doesn't realize he's shoved Charlie halfway across the bed.

Not that Charlie minds. Sends shivers down his spine when it happens, when his boy just, gets too into it. Can't stop himself, all he can think about it getting off, all he feels is that tingle in his spine and all Charlie can do is hold on and get fucked.

Probably could've used a bit more prep, but he likes the sting. Likes feeling his body get used to Sunny's length, making room for it until every thrust pulls a moan from his belly.

Sunny sets a brutal pace; ten minutes before he has to be back at the bar, and it's clear he's going to make every minute count.

Charlie is yanked up, ass lifted higher, bodies pressing together, Charlie's back flush against Sunny's chest. Sunny can't move much this way, but his hips still jerk into Charlie's ass, unrelenting.

The leather couch creases under Charlie's claw-like grip. Their apartment, a symphony of gasps and grunts, the sound of skin meeting skin, over and over, faster and faster.

Sunny moans above him, a small, barely noticeable thing and Charlie wants to hear it again. He moans, hips jerking in the air. Heavy dick swinging between his legs, aching, untouched and leaking. Attempts to get some sort of relief are futile.

A sharp sting from his scalp distracts him temporarily. Tremors shake Sunny's hand; Charlie's roots scream, head craned back, Adam's apple bobs when he swallows. His eyes squeeze shut, surprised shout echoing throughout the apartment.

Sunny doesn't care. Doesn't stop ramming into him. Doesn't slow his pace. Clenches his fist tighter in Charlie's hair and allows another tiny moan to creep out of his throat.

"Fuck, Gene," Charlie says brokenly. "Don- Don't stop, please, don't stop." Rambling into the cushion, voice muffled. Sunny's breathing gets increasingly more ragged and labored. He's getting closer.

Once steady, precise strokes turn erratic. A shaky hand makes its home at the base of Charlie's spine. Lets it push him into the couch, body jerking when his cock touches the cool leather, whimpering from the contact alone.

He struggles to rut into the cushion, desperate for friction of any kind, but the hand on his back stops him.

"Wait," Sunny rasps. Pulls out until he's empty, Charlie hates that feeling, before shoving his way in again, propelling him forward until half of Charlie's body is over the armrest.

His other hand never leaves Charlie's hair, his grip is looser though, barely there, a reminder. The angle makes his neck ache, but it's easy to ignore.

He feels it coming, starting at his lower back, where Sunny pushes down, travels up his spine, dispersing through his entire body.

A familiar haze clouds his senses, everything moves in slow motion. Pins and needles beneath his skin, a constant rock of his body. His cock, throbs between his legs and his hand moves like it's on autopilot.

Sunny intercepts his wrist before he can make contact.

"I said fucking wait." His tone is clipped. Charlie whines as he pins his arm behind his back, grip so tight Charlie feels Sunny's pulse hammering against his wrist. Almost there. Just a few more choppy thrusts and he'd blow his load, deep in Charlie, safekeeping.

Frantically fucking into his ass, impactful and deep. Each stroke stabbing, blurring the line between pain and pleasure until he's seeing stars. Hardwood floor thumping when Sunny drops one of his feet down, shifting the angle, hips still rocking.

White spots cloud Charlie's vision, he's beyond making noises at this point. Silently gripping the armrest, holding on for the ride.

Sunny chokes on air above him, the hand wrapped in blonde hair grips harder, fist shaking.

Sickness washes over him when Sunny pulls out hating that vacant feeling. Hands fall from his hair, unpins his arm.

He lets out a noise of derision, opening his mouth to say something before he's flipped over gracelessly.

Charlie's breath hitches when he sees him.

Sunny is drenched in sweat, chest rising and falling like he's just run two miles. Pupils are blown wide, eyes slightly frantic as they scan Charlie's body, stopping on his face. Brown meets green and nothing else matters.

The way Sunny's eyes look golden in the dim light, that's what matters. The way Charlie's stomach flips when Sunny drags him closer, capturing soft lips with an even softer kiss. Like Charlie's delicate, fragile almost. Sighs into it, cups Sunny's cheek, smiling at the way it scratches into his palm.

"You're so- you're perfect," Sunny says into the kiss and Charlie blushes. "So good."

Trembling fingers wrap themselves around his cock. He jumps, whimpering into Sunny's mouth, the safest place for it.

Sunny strokes down once and Charlie's hips jolt. Hands ripping at long hair on the nape of Sunny's neck. He shivers against Charlie's lips. His other hand squeezes Sunny's throbbing cock.

They must've been a sight, the two of them, in a frenzy, racing to get the other off first. An unspoken competition, who can hold out longer, who can outlast the other.

Charlie twists the head of Sunny's dick and tugs, worm on a hook. Sunny chokes out a whimper- breaks the kiss to bury his head in Charlie's neck. Sunny takes the bait. Hips spastically fucking into his hand, mumbling nonsense into Charlie's skin. He's right there. Staring it down head on.

"Charlie," he warns with a whine. Charlie reels in his catch with one last base to tip stroke.

The fist around Charlie's dick tightens and, seconds later, Sunny jerks in his hand, coats their stomachs, letting out a strained whine as he bites Charlie's neck. He shakes in Charlie's arms, breathing shallow and quick, heart beating so hard against Charlie's chest, he's afraid it'll pop out.

He's barely gone soft when he starts pumping Charlie's dick, slow and tight, drunkenly attempting to wring out an orgasm.

Charlie hugs Sunny's shoulders, holding on as he works over his cock. Jerking him off, swiping a thumb over his head, digs a thumbnail into the slit. Charlie's hips instinctively jerk away before he pushes them back for more.

He whines into Sunny's ear, lips pressed against it, familiar pull in his stomach. Gnaws on his bottom lip to curb his orgasm. He shakes and closes his eyes, tries to focus on breathing. Nothing if not stubborn, Charlie holds off; he has to wait, likes to wait.

"Jesus, Gene," says the two as if they're interchangeable, as if they belong together, "tell me, please." Never too proud to beg, not with Sunny, not like this.

Sunny shivers against him, still coming down. Slows his strokes as he kisses up to his ear, licking around it, delaying his release.

Sunny likes it this way too, like to feel Charlie writhe under him, unable to contain his jerky movements. Gets off on seeing Charlie completely undone, debauched and ruined. Likes bringing Charlie to the absolute brink, seeing his flushed cheeks, feeling hips buck uselessly against him, goading Sunny into giving him what he wants.

Sunny always gives him what he wants, he just has to be the one who pulls the trigger.

"Did so fuckin' good, baby," Sunny says into his ear. "Come for me, Charlie."

He detaches himself from Charlie's neck, eyes still frantic, has to watch, and they're the last thing Charlie sees before his own screw shut. His back arches off the couch feeling Sunny's eyes on him before all he feels is hot white pleasure racing through his body.

He goes taut for a moment, then he's twitching, hips fucking into Sunny's tight hand. Sunny catches some, but most of it lands on their stomachs.

When Charlie reopens his eyes, Sunny is watching him, a tender expression on his face. He moves to stand up, but Charlie's hand shoots out to stop him.

"Wait." Sunny waits and when Charlie just tries to tug him back down, he smiles.

"Dude, I gotta get a towel so we can clean up. I only have like five minutes."

"Sunny," he says it softly, pleading, pulling him closer once more. Sunny let him because he has zero will power. Sighing as he lays down, chest to chest, even though it's gross.

At first, it's quiet and they just listen to the low hum of the TV, Sunny resting his head in the crook of Charlie's neck, tracing the tattoed sun on his chest.

"We should go to Italy," Charlie says after a commercial about an Italian restaurant ends. Sunny shifts in his arms and Charlie's afraid he's going to pull away, but he settles back down.

"We went to Italy, remember? You hated it." Charlie shakes his head, fingers tapping against Sunny's shoulder.

"Yeah, in the '70s. I hated anything that wasn't cocaine or AC/DC back then. I wanna see it now with mostly sober eyes." Sunny's snort makes Charlie smile.

"Considering your track records with Italians, it's probably best we just, avoid Italy, at all costs."

Charlie pinches his shoulder. "Fine, Australia then."

"Oh, did you wanna get banned from another nature reserve?" Charlie opens his mouth to defend himself, but Sunny doesn't give him the chance. "I don't want to hear about the kangaroo again."

"That kangaroo was a bitch and you know it." He's ready for an argument, it's where the conversation always leads.

Sunny pushes himself up until he's looking at Charlie, bored look schooled on his face. A glint in his eyes, retort on his tongue when his ringtone interrupts him.

Sunny detaches himself, ignoring Charlie's complaints, repeated no's. He can't ignore Charlie grabbing his hand though.

"Wait, come on, you're gonna be late anyway, let's cuddle. You gotta see if Chef Andre takes it home." Sunny is unimpressed. Charlie drops his hand so he can move to ruffle through his pockets.

He answers it as he's walking to the kitchen.

"Yeah. I know, sorry, I'm at my place still, my cat's, like, really sick. There's puke everywhere." Charlie smiles as he stares up at the ceiling. Sunny's good at lots of things. He has an impeccable memory and he's the best artist Charlie's ever met. Lying though? Well, everyone has flaws. "Yeah, I just have to mop it all up and stuff. I'll be on my way in, like, ten minutes. Alright. See ya."

He comes back with a wet towel, wiping at his stomach until Charlie takes it from him.

"Charlie," he warns.

"Relax, I was just gonna clean you off." He sits up, planting his feet on the hardwood, bracketing Sunny between his legs. "Unless that'll take too long. Maybe you should call them back and say your cat fell off the fire escape."

"You're hilarious, you know that?" Sunny deadpans, but when Charlie looks up his eyes are soft. He cleans the mess in silence for a few seconds, wipes at his stomach like it's something serious, precise and gentle. "Did you record SNL?"

The color drains from his face and he looks up at Sunny with wide eyes, hand stilling. "Oh shit, no. I thought it was an old one. I'm sorry, babe."

Sunny's smile is gummy when he tugs up one of Charlie's hands, kisses his palm, playing with his fingers. "It's okay."

Charlie hates how fast the blood rushes to his face, turning it a bright shade of pink. Hates how easy Sunny can make him blush. Hates the chill that runs down his back when he kisses each finger.

Hates how much his heart beats for the guy.

"I can just watch the highlights tomorrow." The love of his life.

"Nerd," he mumbles. Charlie finishes and starts wiping away his own stomach. Sunny drops his hand after one last kiss to the palm. When he turns around to look for his clothes, Charlie slaps his ass.

"Bitch," Sunny says without missing a beat. Picks up his jeans and slides them on, not bothering to put on underwear. Charlie drops the rag to the floor with a wet plop.

"We should really go on vacation though. We deserve it, you know?" Sunny slides his belt through the loops of his jeans. Charlie leans back on the armrest, legs spreading wide.

Sunny looks down between his legs for a second, maybe two, then looks for the shirt he hastily discarded.

"Do we, though?" His voice is high pitched and muffled as he slides his black t-shirt over his head.

"Yes. I haven't killed anybody in like, three days," Charlie says, absently playing with the creases in the couch.

"That, absolutely, does not warrant a vacation," he says to the mirror, attempting to fix his hair, make it look less pulled on.

"Well, good thing no one asked you." Sunny smiles at Charlie's reflection in the mirror. He ducks to pull on his boots. Picks up his keys and walks to the door, hand on the knob.

An urge to not let Sunny leave wracks through his body. He wants to make him stay there and watch dumb cooking shows, or just lay there in silence, listening to each other's heartbeats.

Sunny has a job though. They have debts that need paying off, but that list gets shorter every day. This won't be forever. Eventually, Charlie wants to pay off all their debts, kill anyone with a grudge against them that's still alive. Then they can be free. They'll go to Alaska, or a secluded island in Hawaii, or disappear in Europe. Hell, he'd move to the fucking South as long as Sunny's with him.

Because, Sunny and him, that's forever.

"Okay, I should be back at 5, but maybe earlier if Hector closes. You want me to bring something back?" Charlie shakes his head and eyes him up and down. Black jeans and black t-shirt, hair looks like someone ran their hands through it, makes him worry how believable that sick cat bullshit is now.

"Wait." Charlie nakedly half-jogs to the kitchen, grabbing a green apple from the bowl on the counter, shoves it in Sunny's face. "Eat it on the way. You're getting skinny again."

A strange look flashes across his features, but it's gone in a blink, replaced with a shy smile. He takes the apple and looks it over.

"Thanks, dude." Something about his tone makes Charlie's heart skip and he prays he doesn't blush again.

Sunny looks up, the same strange look on his face and closes the distance between them, pulling him close.

Charlie hugs back instinctively, closes his eyes, burrows into his neck. Sunny hugs him like it's the last time he will ever do so, and Charlie tries getting closer.

When he was younger, he never thought he'd have this, not with a man at least. He pictured himself breaking down under the pressure of society. Marrying some blue-eyed brunette, have a couple of green-eyed kids, a dog, a car- the works. His sexuality, a dark secret he'd rarely pacify with random hookups in parking lots, weekends of rushed and desperate fucking disguised as fishing trips.

Then, Sunny showed up. Brought to him like a gift, his only light in a place so dark. 101 years later and Charlie's here; in an apartment, in New York, with the love of his life who also happens to have a dick.

His heart empties when they break apart. Sunny must be able to tell, must read something on his face because he lifts his hand and cups his cheek, strokes the soft skin with his thumb.

"I love you, Chuck."

And just like that, any fondness he feels for Sunny drains from his body. Charlie stares at him, unimpressed.

He reaches behind a laughing Sunny to open the door.

"Okay, bye Sunny," he says quickly and emotionless, pushing Sunny through the door.

Asshole wears a dumb smile and allows Charlie to push him, but then steels his legs, one hand braced on the doorway, most of his body in the hallway, won't leave until he hears it back.

Charlie really doesn't want to give him that satisfaction, but he can't stop himself from saying it. Not when Sunny is looking at him so expectantly like he's willing to be thirty minutes late to work just to hear him say the words back. Sunny knows it would never come to that though, knows it's on the tip of Charlie's tongue; it's like a sneeze or a cough, out of his control.

"I love you, too," he says earnestly, eyes honest and open. His dumb smile turns shy as Sunny looks to the side, blush creeps up his face.

"You are such a sap. I'll literally be back in, like four hours." He steps back into the hallway, taking a bite of his apple.

"Make it three and I'll blow you." Bribery is a bit desperate, but Charlie's a desperate man.

"Can you at least pretend to have some class?" Sunny asks around a mouth full of apple, chunks flying out. Charlie's smile is warm.

"Make sure you come back to me," he says seriously. Sunny swallows whatever's left in his mouth.

"Always, Chuck."

Charlie slams the door in his face, ignoring the muffled laugh on the other side of the door. He doesn't bother locking it.


End file.
